The Day Everything Slipped through....

‎The hollow beneath the loose floorboard stared back at me.

‎Empty.

‎My gaze remained fixed on it, my mind refusing to understand what my eyes were seeing.

‎"...No."

‎The word slipped out as little more than a breath.

‎I reached into the opening, my fingers brushing against the rough wood.

‎They scraped along every corner until splinters dug into my skin.

‎Nothing.

‎I pushed my hand in deeper.

‎Maybe the envelope had slipped farther back.

‎Maybe I'd tucked it into the wrong corner.

‎My fingers searched again.

‎And again.

‎Nothing.

‎My breathing quickened.

‎"It has to be here."

‎I searched beneath the bed.

‎Inside my backpack.

‎Behind the wardrobe.

‎Anywhere my panicked mind could convince itself I'd hidden it.

‎Nothing.

‎A painful sob caught in my throat.

‎My chest tightened until every breath burned.

‎The room blurred as I spun around, staring at the destruction.

‎Drawers hung open.

‎Clothes littered the floor.

‎The mattress leaned awkwardly against the wall.

‎My hands trembled.

‎Slowly...

‎My eyes drifted back to the empty space beneath the floorboard.

‎The hiding place I'd checked a dozen times.

‎The place where every spare penny I'd saved for Mum's treatment had been waiting.

‎Another broken sob escaped me.

‎My legs gave out.

‎I sank onto the floor, still clutching the loose piece of wood.

‎My chest ached as though someone had reached inside and squeezed the air from my lungs.

‎---

‎The front door banged open.

‎"Boy!"

‎His voice echoed through the apartment before he stumbled into view, one hand dragging along the wall to steady himself.

‎The sharp stench of alcohol hit me long before he did.

‎He squinted at the room.

‎"...What..."

‎He blinked slowly.

‎"...What the hell happened in here?"

‎His gaze drifted over the scattered clothes.

‎The overturned mattress.

‎The open drawers.

‎Then it landed on me.

‎"You crying?"

‎A crooked grin spread across his face.

‎"Heh..."

‎"Told you..."

‎He jabbed a finger in my direction, missing by several inches.

‎"...You worry too much."

‎I said nothing.

‎His smile slowly faded.

‎"...Oi."

‎"You deaf?"

‎Still nothing.

‎His bloodshot eyes dropped to the wrinkled envelope in my hand.

‎Something greedy flickered across his face.

‎"Money.“

‎He took an unsteady step toward me.

‎"Give your old man a little."

‎I tightened my grip on the envelope.

‎"No."

‎He stopped.

‎"...What did you say?"

‎"I said no."

‎A humorless chuckle escaped him.

‎"No?"

‎"I'm your father."

‎He laughed again, shaking his head.

‎"Listen to this..."

‎"My own son telling me no."

‎He pointed toward me again.

‎"You think you're rich now?"

‎"You get one fancy job and suddenly..."

‎He waved his hand lazily.

‎"...suddenly you're too good for your old man."

‎He held out his hand.

‎"Enough games."

‎"Hand it over."

‎"It's for Mum."

‎The words came out quieter than I'd intended.

‎"She needs it."

‎His smile vanished.

‎"Your mother..."

‎He scoffed.

‎"She doesn't need to live."

‎My heart sank at his cold words.

‎"You are nothing but a selfish drunk."

‎"Mum worked herself to the bone, and now she's sick because of you."

‎The words slipped out before I could stop them.

‎For a heartbeat...

‎Everything went still.

‎His bloodshot eyes widened.

‎Then they hardened.

‎"You little—"

‎His free hand swung toward my face.

‎Instinct took over.

‎I caught his wrist inches from my cheek.

‎We stared at each other.

‎My heart hammered against my ribs.

‎I'd never stopped him before.

‎Not once.

‎His jaw clenched.

‎"You dare touch me?"

‎"I... I won't let you take it."

‎I pushed his arm away.

‎It wasn't hard.

‎But he was already swaying.

‎His heel caught the leg of the overturned chair.

‎The chair tipped.

‎His balance went with it.

‎Crash.

‎He hit the floor with a heavy thud.

‎For a moment...

‎Neither of us moved.

‎Then his face twisted with rage.

‎"You ungrateful bastard!"

‎"You think one office job makes you better than me?"

‎"I fed you!"

‎"I raised you!"

‎He slammed a fist against the floor.

‎"Coward!"

‎"Get back here!"

‎His curses followed me as I stood there, clutching the wrinkled envelope against my chest.

‎My hands trembled.

‎Not because I was afraid of him anymore...

‎But because, for the first time in my life...

‎I'd fought back.

‎I didn't wait to see what he'd do next.

‎The curses followed me all the way to the door.

‎"You useless trash!"

‎"You'll come crawling back!"

‎I couldn't listen anymore.

‎My fingers fumbled with my bag.

‎I shoved the crumpled envelope inside, slung the strap over my shoulder and stumbled out of the apartment.

‎The door slammed shut behind me.

‎---

‎Silence.

‎Then—

‎Rain.

‎Cold droplets struck my face, soaking through my shirt within seconds.

‎I didn't stop.

‎My feet carried me down the cracked staircase two steps at a time.

‎By the time I reached the street, the rain had become a downpour, turning the pavement into a blur of shimmering lights.

‎I walked.

‎Then faster.

‎Then I ran.

‎The wind whipped against my face, stealing every steady breath I tried to take.

‎My chest hurt.

‎Not from running.

‎From everything.

‎The empty floorboard.

‎Mum's hospital bills.

‎Dad's outstretched hand.

‎The slap that never landed.

‎The thought replayed over and over in my head.

‎I'd fought back.

‎My vision blurred.

‎A warm tear slipped down my cheek.

‎The rain washed it away before I could feel it.

‎Another followed.

‎Then another.

‎Soon I couldn't tell where the rain ended and my tears began.

‎I kept running.

‎Streetlights streaked past in golden smears.

‎Cars splashed through puddles.

‎Someone shouted as I nearly collided with them, but I didn't turn around.

‎I couldn't.

‎If I stopped...

‎I wasn't sure I'd be able to move again.

‎By the time I reached Lucas's apartment building, my lungs burned with every breath.

‎I climbed the stairs, my legs trembling beneath me.

‎My fist slammed against the door.

‎Bang.

‎No answer.

‎I knocked again.

‎Harder.

‎Bang!

‎"Lucas..."

‎My voice cracked.

‎One more time.

‎Bang!

‎The lock clicked.

‎The door creaked open.

‎Lucas stood there in an oversized T-shirt, his hair sticking out in every direction.

‎Sleep still lingered in his eyes until they landed on me.

‎His expression changed instantly.

‎"...Elias?"

‎Rainwater dripped from my clothes, forming a small puddle at my feet.

‎I tried to smile.

‎It wouldn't come.

‎"It's your father again... isn't it?"

‎It wasn't a question.

‎I opened my mouth.

‎Nothing came out.

‎My throat tightened until it hurt to breathe.

‎The envelope slipped from my numb fingers and landed on the floor with a soft thud.

‎Lucas didn't ask another question.

‎He stepped forward and pulled me inside.

‎The warmth of the apartment hit me.

‎So did the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

‎It was enough.

‎Everything I'd been holding back shattered.

‎A broken sob tore from my chest as my knees gave way.

‎Lucas caught me before I hit the floor.

‎"It's okay," he said quietly, one hand resting on the back of my head.

‎"You don't have to say anything."

‎For the first time that day...

‎I let myself cry.

‎

‎---

‎Lucas helped me onto the couch and disappeared for a moment before returning with a dry towel.

‎He studied Elias for a long moment.

‎"Stay here tonight.“

‎I glanced up at him.

‎"Lucas..“

‎"I'm serious.“

‎"You can't keep going back there.“

‎I lowered my gaze.

‎"... Your parents already don't like me.“

‎Lucas frowned.

‎"Forget them.“

‎The silence was answer enough.

‎The apartment was quiet.

‎A towel rested over my shoulders, but the cold clinging to my skin refused to leave.

‎My phone vibrated. Then the screen lit up.

‎St. Mary's Hospital.

‎My stomach tightened.

‎I answered immediately.

‎"Hello?"

‎The doctor's gentle voice came through the speaker.

‎"Mr. Hart... I'm afraid your mother's condition has worsened."

‎My grip tightened around the phone.

‎"We've done what we can to keep her stable, but she needs treatment as soon as possible."

‎I closed my eyes.

‎"And... the unpaid hospital bill has increased."

‎Silence.

‎"We understand your situation," the doctor continued softly,

‎"but we can't delay much longer."

‎"I..."

‎The word caught in my throat.

‎"I understand."

‎The call ended.

‎Slowly...

‎I lowered the phone into my lap.

‎I didn't move.

‎I just stared at the floor.

‎---

‎Rain fell over the city.

‎High above it, Dante Moretti stood on the balcony of his penthouse.

‎A dark silk bathrobe hung loosely from his broad shoulders.

‎A cigarette rested between his fingers.

‎Smoke curled into the night air.

‎The robe had fallen slightly open, revealing black ink winding across his chest, shoulders and down one powerful arm.

‎His expression remained unreadable as he watched the city below.

‎A knock sounded.

‎"Come in."

‎The door opened.

‎Enzo stepped inside.

‎"Boss."

‎Dante didn't turn.

‎"Our men are still watching him.“

‎"He left home after an altercation with Simon Hart.“

‎"He's currently at Lucas Montego's residence.“

‎Dante didn't speak for a moment.

‎"Keep watching him.“

‎Enzo bowed his head.

‎"Yes, boss.“

‎The balcony door slid shut behind him.

‎Dante took one last drag from his cigarette before letting it fall into the rain.

‎"Soon," he murmured.

‎"You'll have nowhere left to run, little fox.“

‎